Do You Even Drive?
by Literary Bitca
Summary: One-shot about Reddington finally breaking down and getting behind the wheel of a car himself. Written for Lizzington Shippers Secret Santa challenge, hiatus 2015!


"Do You Even Drive?"

Disclaimer: I don't own Red or Liz, I'm just playing with them. No profits here.

Author's Note: I wrote this for several reasons. #1: Lizzington Shippers FB Group Hiatus Secret Santa! This is for my Santee, Jonesy813. :) Hope you enjoy! #2: I'd written this as a 200-word minific, and wanted to expand on it, so when my Santee mentioned cars, I figured this was a good idea. If the beginning sounds familiar, you might have read it already on FB or tumblr—but I'm not stealing, this has always been mine. #3: After watching the admittedly funny and frankly adorable car chase with Tom and Liz together in the Mustang in the finale, I felt I needed a BETTER car chase with Reddington driving. Because reasons. And the title is in reference to Braxton's line in 2x09.

;) What I took as my prompt:

"Oh man, this is so hard. Reminds me of […] when I would sit on Santa's lap and he would ask me what I wanted for Christmas […]. To be honest I have no idea what I would like. I did tell Santa I wanted a dump truck and ended up getting a Lamborghini, so I guess improvise! […]"

….:::…

Liz raced from the hotel lobby, skidding to a stop next to Reddington. He'd been standing nonchalantly next to a beautifully groomed potted evergreen under the ornate porte-cochere, and had apparently just said something witty, because the leggy blonde he was speaking to was giggling uncontrollably.

"Lizzie! How did it go in there?" he asked, the smile that he'd been using for The Blonde still plastered across his face.

"Porter went out the window; he's in a car, and he should be coming right around—" Liz's rushed words stopped momentarily as a lime green street car careened around the corner and tore off down the street. "That's him," she said, pointing.

The smile fell from Reddington's face and, suddenly all business, he strode to the unattended valet booth and grabbed a set of keys. He walked briskly to the driver's side of the waiting Dodge Charger, and raised an eyebrow at Liz as he yanked open the door. "You coming?" he asked, disappearing into the car.

Trying to keep the surprise from her face, Liz dashed forward and pulled open the passenger side door as the car roared to life.

After two years of being chauffeured around the world by Dembe and others (it had galled him more than he cared to admit when Braxton had mocked him about it at the Factory), Reddington felt it was somehow appropriate that his hiatus from driving would end in such a vehicle, and with Elizabeth Keen as a witness.

Liz slammed her door shut behind her and shot Reddington a vaguely concerned look. "When was the last time you drove? Are you sure you're even going to be able to operate this thi–?" Without warning, she was tossed forward into the dash as Reddington threw his right arm over the back of her seat and craned his neck around, flooring it in reverse to get clear of the sedan in front of them. He yanked hard on the wheel before turning to face front, jamming the gearshift forward and stomping on the gas again. Liz gripped the small handle on her door, bracing herself with her feet splayed as she stared, aghast, at Reddington.

"Might I suggest you put on your seat belt, Lizzie?" Reddington advised calmly, wrenching the steering wheel to the left with precision as they flew around a tight corner, the car growling. "We _are_ in the middle of a car chase."

The Charger roared through a red light, narrowly missing several other cars.

"That was a red light!" Liz yelled above the noise of the engine.

"What about this being a car chase do you not understand?" Red replied calmly, swerving around a slow moving truck. He could see the unmistakable green of Porter's car up ahead of them, and he stood on the gas.

Tires squealed ahead of them as the lead car took a tight left turn, and Reddington yanked on the wheel, following closely around the same corner, tossing Liz against the side door.

"I really do recommend that seat belt," Reddington advised again. Liz hastily grabbed for the buckle and pulled it across her chest, securing it at her left hip. Liz gave a shout and kicked one foot up to brace herself against the dash as they took another corner, jarring up over the curb slightly at the apex of the curve.

Reddington glared at her boot disapprovingly. "Careful what you're kicking, Lizzie, this is a beautifully upgraded classic American muscle car in perfect condition; do you know how much this thing is worth?" He hauled on the steering wheel, swiping so closely past a large dump truck that the side-view mirror shattered as it was scraped from the right side of the car. "— _Was_ worth," Reddington hastily corrected himself in a low voice, frowning and raising an eyebrow, his lips pursed.

Porter careened through an intersection, turning into the empty on-coming traffic lanes to avoid the line of cars in front of them. "Reddington, don't you da—"

Red pulled the wheel, drifting slightly to the side before the tires caught again and their forward momentum was resumed. Liz yelped a warning as a car turned into their lane, and Reddington took the right wheels up on to the median for half a block to avoid hitting it before returning to the lane. Porter turned down a narrow side street, and Red followed, down-shifting and rolling the steering wheel with a practiced touch.

"I take it your meeting didn't go well?" Red inquired nonchalantly.

"You want to have this discussion _now_?!" Liz's tone was incredulous.

"Why not? Are you currently busy?" Red asked, bouncing over another curb as he followed Porter into a park. Leaving gouges in the well-kept grass, the two cars sped across the space, ducks and pigeons scattering.

"Watch it!" Liz cried as they approached a group of joggers, and instinctively she reached for the steering wheel.

Reddington smacked her hand away. "Hands off the wheel, Lizzie, nobody likes a backseat driver," he chided.

"But—" she protested as he swung wide around the cluster of people.

"I see them, I see them…" Reddington muttered, pulling back into traffic after the green car in front of them. "Does he have the files on him?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "How about you concentrate on _not_ killing us, and we'll discuss my meeting later?" she suggested harshly.

"I can multitask. Let's discuss it now." The car in front of them turned off the main streets, and Reddington realized where he was heading: the small airport on the edge of town.

"Oh, fine, sure," Liz answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "My meeting went _great_ , right up until the moment he got a phone call that I assume was a warning about _us_ , because he immediately jack-rabbitted out the window!" Liz glared at Reddington. "Now it's your turn—how was _your_ meeting?"

" _My_ meeting?" Reddington asked, confusion crossing his features as he did his best to stay on the road as he gained steadily on the car in front of him.

"Yes, it looked like you were having quite a conversation with that blonde by the entrance while you were waiting—?"

"Oh! Yes. Alicia Jones, sweet girl, you'd like her. Working her way through law school right now! Does a bit of modeling on the side, apparently—" Reddington broke off as he pulled alongside Porter's car and yanked on the wheel, clipping the back corner of the other car, causing it to swerve, but not stop.

"Are you okay?" Reddington asked Liz tightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"Hold on to something; I'm going to do that again…" Reddington pulled up next to the green car a second time, and as they approached a small kiosk and flimsy lowered gate, he slammed the Charger into the side of Porter's car, sending him barreling off the road and straight into the small, unmanned structure.

Reddington brought the Charger to a stop, and ran his hands approvingly down either side of the steering wheel. "Not bad," he allowed, "for an American car. But I still say… there's nothing like driving a Lamborghini. The Italians… _they_ know how to make a car." Clicking his tongue, Reddington opened his door and got out.

"Reddington…" Liz called after him, stepping shakily from the Charger and taking a few steps sideways as he approached the smoking, wrecked car in front of them and tried the door, which was crumpled shut. He leaned in through the missing driver's side window, reached over, and released the man's seat belt. With considerable effort Reddington hauled the groaning man out through the window and deposited him unceremoniously on the pavement. After roughly checking all of Porter's pockets, Reddington straightened, holding a small thumb drive. "It's like Christmas, and you're Santa. This is exactly what I wanted, thank you," he said to the crumpled form at his feet. "Agent Keen? Do you happen to have your handcuffs available?"

Liz joined him, appearing at his side and pulling a pair of cuffs from inside her jacket. "…I've never seen you drive…" she murmured. "…I was starting to wonder whether you _could_ …" She looked down at Porter where he lay, blinking up at the pair of them in confusion and pain. "…Dembe always drives…?"

Reddington nodded, tilting his head to one side. "Mmm. Obviously it's not that I _can't_ … it's just that we generally try to avoid interacting with the local police, and when _I_ drive…" Reddington frowned as if confused. "…we tend to get pulled over."

…:::…

Happy Hiatus, Jonesy813! Much love,  
Your Lizzington Shippers Secret Santa. :)


End file.
